A scar is time-placed
A junction of the mind
With places meant to be
An ordained sample
Generously clouded into
Our lives and times
To pass, but remain
In our minds, as
Mind and man, flesh
Rot to nothingness.

A distance too large to transgress
A time too mighty to ignore
Our pleasure's fancy whisked away to rest
A hope brought firmly down to nest.

A shout from home of other days
A rendering of soul's first urge
To find and keep it; the call
Imbed's in memory's lost soul.